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Published by Amanda

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Category: Writing and Poetry

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Legacy (or How Long Can You Hold Your Arm Out In Front Of You)

When whales were sung along coastlines, as they are again

beaches bled spring water, from dunes to sea

 

When faraway whales fed a village for a year, distances were

measured in months, as they are again, moving through debris

 

My friend has cut herself, epaulettes of scars siren a time

where this was her only freedom

 

Tell the tongue and larynx that words are not actions. Tell

the lungs they are not the heart, tell the hand, the pen

 

Camouflage quails the nest in grass, a knot of wood shows

likeness to a bird, Frogmouthed to grey, to silver

 

Serial killers and CEOs measure themselves in thoughts

Imagining them(selves) into other minds they will never be

 

Freeze is the Bee-eater burrowed in the path of Tiger Snakes

Vivid simplicity of black hole in white sand

 

Soft loss of every near-death. Experience tells us, the tongue

the larynx should not move against this. Words.

 

Swift fission, he speaks and I becomes a murmuration of cells

and all that space. The dog’s head, the hand on it.

 

The scream, the slammed door, sounds that mark abrupt rupture

A snarl of bark shifting chronology

 

My friend doesn’t speak while needled with ink, the tattooist will

not know she has fainted. Her skin glows damp

 

This legacy/ then, a village unfed, well worn track through

scrub. A simple sentence; this greening of riparian trees

 

Revisit me, say the words, come again. Come close where they

can’t see you. Hold a hand long enough,  just,  long

 

Whale rises, ocean thick with song, to wave at a tour boat

Her slow eye following the fall of a mobile phone, through fathoms

 


10 Kudos

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William

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I couldn't do it! I tried to stay awake and couldn't...... but perhaps it's better to read in the morning. It's like coffee.

I could paste the entire work here and spend hours working each line it's so powerful and beautiful. These lines made me stop and re-read a number of times..."Swift fission, he speaks and I becomes a murmuration of cells

and all that space. The dog’s head, the hand on it.

 

The scream, the slammed door, sounds that mark abrupt rupture

A snarl of bark shifting chronology" so vivid i feel like I'm standing right there watching. The italic on "i" bouncing around in my head.....


I knew you still did this... I knew it. Such a pleasure to be able to sink into your words....


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Thanks for getting me over here Will.

Your kind words are a balm.

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Blackbird (Dale Winslow)

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Freeze is the Bee-eater burrowed in the path of Tiger Snakes
Vivid simplicity of black hole in white sand

!!! this hit me, the whole of it yes, but these lines in particular. Reading you again is like having the plastic bag taken off my head - I am able to breathe again - to create again - your words show me new ways to express. I have missed you and your marvellous mind and heart.


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I was feeling the same way reading your poems this morning Dale!
Xx

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Steve

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Brilliant, lyrical, movement! You always set the Barr to inspire! I trust that you are well Amanda :-)! It is so wonderful to read you again!!


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Hi Steve! Just feeling my way around in the dark here. Not a big fan of nostalgia in general but quite excited about the idea of reconnecting with some folk in this format.. Looking forward to reading your poems!

by Amanda; ; Report